


Fight For Me

by hookedphantom



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boxing, Boxing & Fisticuffs, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-19 00:54:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5950066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hookedphantom/pseuds/hookedphantom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>he could practically feel the bag breathing, bruising, and trying to defend. </p><p>he was about to fight a 3 time champion, and there was no way he would lose.</p><p>--</p><p>He would not lose, not today, not tomorrow, not in the foreseeable future. </p><p>He would never lose, especially not to an inexperienced rookie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fight For Me

poe dameron pulled his boxing gloves on and breathed a heavy sigh. he pretended the punching bag was his next opponent, circling around it before approaching it and beginning his attack. right jab, left jab, right hook, uppercut. uppercut, uppercut, uppercut. he could practically feel the bag breathing, bruising, and trying to defend.

he was about to fight a 3 time champion, and there was no way he would lose.

 

* * *

 

_“If you lose, don’t bother coming back.”_

Phasma’s chilling instructions— not teasing encouragements, no, he had spent enough time under her tutelage to learn that she definitely meant every word she ever said— ceaselessly echoed in Finn’s mind, each repetition serving as fuel for each of his quick, violent motions, a motivator behind every resounding punch to the dangling bag before him.

With each collision of his bandaged knuckles against the punching bag, Finn renewed his unbroken vow to Phasma, his truthful promise that he would rather die before disappointing her. She was the propelling force behind his triumphs, the sole reason he achieved his numerous, seemingly limitless successes, and she was not modest in reminding him of her role in his career.

If he did not meet her expectations, if he did not comply with her standards of perfection, if he _failed_ her, then he could kiss his victories goodbye.

He would not lose, not today, not tomorrow, not in the foreseeable future. He would _never_ lose, especially not to an inexperienced rookie.       

 

* * *

 

rey and poe stared at each other from corners of the mat. rey was the only one who was ever willing to practice with poe. they faced off and proceeded to begin the fight, approaching each other with raised fists and a defensive stance. poe knew that rey was 100% willing to hurt him and take him down, and he knew he couldn’t win against her if he tried. but he promised himself that he would keep fighting her until he won.

they punched and fought until rey had him on the ground. she giggled and bopped his nose with her glove.

“you loser. why’d you enter this year’s competition? you know you can’t even win against me, let alone legends like finn.”

he sighed and took his gloves off. “because…i don’t fucking know. why didn’t you?”

she smirked at him. “because i’m not stupid like you. i know i can’t win until i finish my training correctly.” she grabbed her clothes out of her locker and headed over to the shower.

poe shook his head at her and proceeded to do the exact same thing she did. leia would be expecting him in the office to talk about… stuff. about how she was ready to stop managing him if he went through with competing. if he lost, he would be ruining the whole legacy of her team. he shook his head and reminded himself that he could do anything he put his mind to.

_fucking anything._

 

* * *

 

“Again.”

Finn ignored the pounding ache reverberating in his skull. Ignored the fragile brittleness of his countlessly bruised bones. Ignored the thick trickle of blood seeping from his nose. He remained motionless upon the mat, too exhausted and sore to summon any semblance of strength to his trembling limbs, his swollen eyes screwed tightly shut, his breaths heaving and jagged.

“On your feet.”

Phasma never referred to him by his proper name, and Finn had, long ago, accepted that she would never address him as such. She claimed that it was a right to be earned, that he must prove his worthiness in order for her to respectfully acknowledge his identity. And, while his successes were numerous, he had not left a lasting impression on her. Not _yet_ , at least.

He shakily stood, his knees buckling underneath his shifting weight, his legs wobbling as he struggled to regain his balance, and, without warning, without _waiting_ , she was immediately upon him again. Two punches to the right cheek, three jabs to the left, a swift duck to dodge Finn’s clumsy attack, a quick uppercut to the underside of her student’s chin that stilled his motions, knocking him flat onto his back once again.

“How can you expect to win against the rookie,” she questioned, looming over the collapsed body of her student, nonchalantly removing her gloves to crack her knuckles. “When you cannot win against me?”

Her cold question is not expected to have a verbal retort, Finn had learned that at the modest start of his career. Instead, he sucked in a steadying breath through his clenched teeth, braced for the ruthless agony awaiting him as punishment for exceeding his physical limits, and forced himself back onto his feet, controlling the uneasy sway of his body underneath the waves of pain coursing through his system.

Phasma’s stolid gaze eased into a cruel, calculating smirk, almost as if she was satisfied with the unspoken answer Finn had rightfully given, as she slipped on her gloves.

“Again.”

 

* * *

 

poe’s fists hit the bag. today, he was angry. he had his first fight of the competition this evening, and the person he was fighting was a runner-up from years past, and he had to win this fight to move on to the next round.

he hit the bag again and again, his fists raw and his arms sore, sweat rolling down his face. rey came up behind him and shouted his name.

he turned to face her, resting his arm on the punching bag and breathing heavily. she put both of her hands on his shoulders and gave him a kind smile.

“if you keep at this, you won’t have enough energy to fight tonight. take a break.”

“can’t break. have to train. have to win.”

she gripped his shoulders tighter.

“no. break. have some food and water. we can do some jump rope later.”

he sighed heavily and gave into rey’s wishes.

“you know,” she gave him a cute grin.

“no, i don’t. do share.”

“i have a 20 credit bet on you tonight. you best win.”


End file.
